


Do you want to kiss me, Thomas?

by notchason



Series: One-shots [Hamilton] [8]
Category: Hamilton - Miranda
Genre: Alex and thomas are buds after that event, Bottom Thomas Jefferson, But its not the main plot center, Emotionally Constipated Alex, Emotionally constipated Thomas, Gay Sex, I'll see you in hell after this one @founding fathers, It's very clear, James madison is dead, LOOK AWAY GRANDMA, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Porn, Shameless Smut, Shield your eyes Jesus, Well they don't really fuck but if they did Thomas would obviously bottom, hand-jobs
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-30
Updated: 2017-05-30
Packaged: 2018-11-06 22:36:58
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,860
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11045766
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/notchason/pseuds/notchason
Summary: (Tags explain everything tbh)James Madison dies and Alex and Thomas began forming a fragile friendship over texts. Fast forward a month and this happens. Very smut, much gay.





	Do you want to kiss me, Thomas?

**Author's Note:**

> I was supposed to be studying

Alexander was sitting on the couch in his house, Jefferson right near him. He managed to make Washington let him early from work, even though it was not quite his forte to plea something like that. He guesses that was why Washington has done it in the first place. But he needed some peace and quiet. He was stressed and couldn't stand a minute longer at his desk. Eventually Thomas Jefferson had joined him. If it were a month ago, he'd chase the man away wile spitting insults in his direction. But he and Jefferson grew close upon James Madison's death. Thomas needed to talk to someone and one fateful night, Alexander found himself being the first person (after James) in Thomas' contact list. They texted on and off then, never quite communicating outside their cellphones.  
  
Thomas didn't give him a convincing explanation as to why is he here, just muttered some half-assed apology about how Burr wanted him to socialise and Thomas _did not want to go out clubbing or some shit_ , quote unquote.

They were watching television, some documentary about ferrets or something. It wasn't particularly interesting. Considering that Thomas was in the armchair, Alexander saw him clearly in his peripheral vision. He saw how his eyebrows came together when the narrator commented how ferrets were known to kill domestic cats in fights over territories, or how his eyes widened when they showed baby ferrets in their nest, or the way he held his breath when mother ferret barely survived while hunting birds for her cubs, or how he tilted his head when they said that a ferret could sleep for 14-18 a day and a cute sleeping ferret was on the screen. It was ridiculous, really, how much attention did he pay to Jefferson, things insignificant and little like facial expressions or quirks. However, Alexander didn't either miss the times when he saw Jefferson doing the same - watching him, studying him. He had to admit, he didn't like to be in that position. Somehow it felt as if he was at a disadvantage, as if he was being watched like prey, and Jefferson was the predator. But the other man's deep, dark brown eyes didn't seem predatory in any way. They were gentle, admiring. Alexander knew the exact moment when Jefferson completely decided to ignore the documentary and just blatantly kept staring at his lips. Even though there was at least 6 feet distance between them, he felt trapped. His blood was rushing, rushing to his face, making his cheeks rosy and hot. He felt the blush burning at his ears and spreading down his chest.  
  
"You okay, Hamilton? You look tense as hell."  
  
"Yeah I'm - I'm fine", he managed. It wasn't convincing enough for Jefferson, though. But even if Jefferson was considering getting up and seeing what's the issue up close, he decided to drop it. Of course Alexander would be tense, he was closed in a room with the person he dislikes the most in the world. Or that's what what Thomas thought.  
  
The next 20 minutes they spent in silence. Jefferson was tapping his fingers on the leather armrest, making Alex go insane. His gaze was firmly fixed on Alexander still.  
  
"I mean, Thomas, if you wanna kiss me that bad, get on it. I'm done watching you look like a kicked puppy." Alexander tried to joke, tried to work Jefferson up or something so they could fight again and make things less awkward and more normal between them.  
  
But Jefferson didn't shoot back an insult, didn't counter Alex with anything. He just slowly looked up at the man's eyes. "You're joking, right?"  
  
Alexander looked at him and slowly nodded, one eyebrows cocking in question. He shifted awkwardly in his seat.  
  
"Sure, yea, of course." Thomas smiled lightly. The man had a gorgeous smile. Alex winced, though. It felt as if Thomas somethig more to say.  
  
"Hm, Jefferson, you make me think that you're not completely fine. And here you're accusing me of being tense." Hamilton commented.  
  
Jefferson sighed. "Jesus Hamilton, get some chill."  
  
"Do you want to kiss me?"  
  
"No."  
  
"Jefferson, do you want to kiss me?"  
  
"No, I -"  
  
"Kiss me."  
  
Thomas' eyes visibly widened. His hands gripped the armrest on his right and the cushion to his left. "What?"  
  
"Do it." Alexander didn't know what he was doing. Well, improvising more often than not turned out well for him. Why not now? 

Jefferson stood up, his feet seemingly moments away from giving out under him. He came close to Alexander, whose big, curious, doe eyes met Jefferson's own black orbs. Alexander subconsciously licked his lips, tongue peaking out of his mouth just a little, but enough to make Thomas' blood boil. He then lowered himself, bending his knees so he was on the same level as was Hamilton. He could see his lips closer now, pink and chapped but still more than sufficient to make Thomas want to know how they taste, how they feel against his own. So he placed a careful hand on Alexander's cheek and brought the immigrant's head closer to his own. He gingerly pressed his lips against the other's man, exploring the new territory.  
  
Alexander released a breath he wasn't even aware he was holding. He placed his hands on Thomas' biceps to stop himself from giving out of control. They served like a temporary anchor. His right hand travelled up, gliding smoothly over the folds of Thomas' sweater, fabric soft under his fingers. His hand stopped on the base of Thomas' neck, pressing him closer to Alexander. Thomas parted his lips slightly, an open invitation for Alexander, which the smaller man took without objection. His tongue slid against the roof of Thomas' mouth, making the larger man let out a small, muffled moan into Alexander's mouth. Alex firmly grabbed Thomas by the collar of the sweater, wrinkling the fabric in his balled hands. Thomas let out an annoyed sound of protest at that, but he cut himself off when Alexander pulled the other man in his lap. Thomas pressed Alex into the back pillows of the couch, now having more control when he straddled the smaller man's hips. His hips buckled up, much to Thomas' embarassment. It was an involuntary action that judging by the pleased sound Hamilton made, just boosted the man's ego. He was desperate for Hamilton and now that he had him, if was very hard to control his body.  
  
But Alexander's left hand travelled down from his collar to the front of his pants and _hello there,_ that escalated quickly. Thomas couldn't help the gasp he let out, needy and desperate. He might as well stop pretending right now that he wasn't waiting for this from the moment he set eyes on Alexander. Sure, meeting him and getting familiar with his personality wasn't all rainbows and unicorns, it wasn't easy. At one point, Thomas surely hated him. But this all changed in merely a month.  
  
"Hamilton --  _p-please-_ ", he managed, eyes shut. Alexander's mouth was now on his neck, and he could feel Alexander's smirk on his skin. The hand started rubbing him through his trousers, the firm heel of Hamilton's palm feeling so good, so otherworldly, you'd think Thomas never jacked off or was at the receiving end of a single hand-job in his life. He did, but nothing felt quite good as this. A wet stain formed under Alexander's hand, and it should have been embarrassing but Thomas hand other things to deal with at that particular moment. His hand found its way into Alexander's hair. It was odd not to be able to undo Alexander's formerly signature ponytail, since the man had cut it short only but last week. Nevertheless he tangled his fingers among the soft brown strands. This seemed to have an effect on Hamilton. The tent in the front of Hamilton's pants grew by the second, much to Thomas' satisfaction. He ground his front against the other man's earning himself a broken moan from Alexander. A thought that they were about to get off like a couple of horny teenagers coursed through his mind. It was comical, really. But he didn't entertain it for too long before he felt heat pooling low in his gut. Thomas arched his back and threw his head behind as Alexander's skilled hand brought him to his climax. His eyes screwed shut and his vision went white until he hit his peak.  
  
He sat back, panting and breathing heavily due to the intensity of the orgasm. His hand let go of Alexander's hair and both of them went limp. When he got back to his senses, he saw that Alexander was carefully watching him, following his every action.

Alexander's usually gentle brown gaze was darkened with lust. He kept it on Thomas, letting him know that they weren't quite done here. He motioned his hand towards his crotch, the action making Thomas impossibly blush. Like a crushing schoolboy, he thought.  
  
Ignoring the uncomfortable, sticky feeling between his legs, Thomas shifted further away on Alexander's lap, making it possible for him to unzip Alex's flyer and ultimately free the man's throbbing hard-on. It sprung up when Thomas removed the barrier that were boxers, just against Alexander's abdomen. He spit in his hand twice before laying it on Alex and starting to stroke lightly at first, almost in a teasing matter. It resulted in Hamilton having to use all his strength to bite back a groan, a sound that didn't end up being silenced but sounding more animalistic than anything Thomas has ever heard. His eyes fluttered shut as Thomas pumped it quicker, the pad of his thumb gliding over the head and smearing precome. Alexander was breathing heavily, occasionally licking his lips. And that was a sight to behold. Thomas squeezed a bit around the shaft, making Alex's pelvis buckle up. It made Thomas' body buzz with some satisfaction. Alexander came with Thomas' name on his lips and head thrown back, almost hitting the wall.  
  
:: ::  
  
Thomas and Alexander decided after their first round to take it relatively slow. But the longer Thomas was around Hamilton, the harder time did he have trying to keep his hands away from the other man. So that didn't really work. They were in bed right now, Alexander's bed, with Alex's had flung over his hip and the smaller man's chest against Thomas' backside, face nestled into the crook of Thomas neck. He was asleep, but Thomas' own mind wouldn't let him relax and doze off. How could he like Alexander like that? It serves no purpose to deny his attraction towards the man after all that, but he shouldn't have succumbed to his urges. Hamilton was a vile man with even viler mouth to match. But it hadn't felt so vile when he kissed him. The thoughts kept coming, keeping him up to ungodly hours. What was done was done, it can't just be forgotten. He'll figure it out eventually, he promises himself. But until then - he turns around, stirring Hamilton up and placing his mouth on the other's neck - he has more important matters at hand.


End file.
